In the nick of time
by smaugholmeswatson
Summary: A fix-it I wrote for The Empty Hearse around the scene in the underground train carriage. It annoyed me at the time how Sherlock treated John and this is my attempt to fix it.


So this wasn't how John had imagined the day would go. One minute they were off on a romantic date; the next they were standing beside a bomb on an abandoned tube train and facing imminent death. Never in his wildest dreams could he have seen they would end up here. It seemed cruel really, to be so briefly reunited with Sherlock before it was all snatched away. Beyond the Windows there was nothing but darkness and John felt a shiver run down his spine. This wasn't the best place to be spending your final moments on earth and he definitely think of some better ones. They were trapped in what was essentially a narrow metal cabin with no way out... well at least he would get to die alongside the man he loved. It was just a shame they wouldn't live long enough to make it to their wedding day.

From the other end of the carriage there came a cry of annoyed disgust followed by a crash. John jumped and looked up in time to see Sherlock throwing his phone to the floor. The detective's face was flushed and his expression was one of complete and utter hopelessness. John felt his heart sink a little. He'd been relying on Sherlock to come up with something. That had literally been his only hope. Sherlock swore loudly. "It's no bloody good! I can't get a damn signal!" He raged, sweeping his hair back with enough force to make it stand on end.

John slowly lowered himself into the nearest seat, sending a cloud of dust puffing into the air. "So does that mean Greg and the bomb squad won't be coming to miraculously save the day?" He joked in an attempt to make light of their situation. It was an attempt however that fell flat.

Sherlock looked at John with an expression of stunned horror. Stumbling slightly he walked over and collapsed on the floor at John's feet, resting his head on one of John's knees. "John, we are going to die down here alone in the dark where nobody will be able to reach us. Now really isn't the time for jokes."

John couldn't help but laugh at this and just how wrong Sherlock was. "Well we won't be alone will we? We have each other after all." He said with a smile, despite the despair that was resting heavily upon him. Taking one of Sherlock's hands in his won he swallowed hard before asking his next question, it wasn't one he was sure he wanted to hear the answer to. "What are we going to do?"

There was silence for a moment before Sherlock let out a sigh and reached up to place a hand in John's thigh. "We should enjoy the time we have left." He said in reply, craning his neck so he could see the glowing red numbers of the countdown clock. He winced. Only six minutes to go until the bomb went off. "I'm just sorry we didn't get to spend more time together." It didn't seem fair their time together would be so short. It made Sherlock want to scream and smash something. He took a deep breath and somehow managed to push the impulse to one side.

"I'm sorry too." John said, his voice quiet as it began to sink in. It had only been three days since their first kiss for gods sake! With a sigh he placed his hand over Sherlock's and leant down to lightly kiss him on the forehead. "I love you so much. You know that right?"

In the background, constant and almost impossible to ignore, there was the humming tick of the bomb as it counted down the seconds to oblivion. Both Sherlock and John tried their best not to hear it, instead focusing entirely on each other. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge just how close death was getting to them. Sherlock moved to a kneeling position and reached up to stroke John's cheek. "So what are we going to do with our remaining time?"

John could no longer sum up the strength to smile and simply looked sad in answer to the question. "Well there is something I can think of." He said without much conviction in his voice, even as he gently nipped at the side of Sherlock's neck.

Knowing John's heart wasn't in it Sherlock pushed him away. "It's an idea but not one appropriate for this situation I feel." He said a little disappointed that John's normally impulsive personality seemed to have dimmed slightly. On a normal day this situation would be playing out very differently with less clothes almost certainly being involved...Still there was no point in dwelling on it. Not when they had so little time left.

Still some of his old impulsiveness was still there because, unable to help himself, John found himself glancing down at the bomb sitting practically by his feet. The numbers now read less than half a minute. He did a double take. Wait? That couldn't be right could it? He didn't think that much time could have passed already. John felt tears warm his eyes and threaten to spill down his cheeks. He swallowed hard and tried to force them back. No, he had promised himself he wouldn't cry. He had promised he would be brave, even at the very end. Now that he was staring darkness in the face John realised with a jolt that he didn't want to die.

A quiet sob escaped him. Immediately, without even a seconds thought, Sherlock enveloped John in a tight hug. "It's okay John. I know you're scared because I am too. This is not how I envisioned our last moments would be... " His voice trailed away. He knew there was nothing he could say to make it any better. Comforting words would fall flat and he couldn't think of anyway out of this situation. It was too late to run and the bomb had resisted his efforts to defuse it- he had never seen anything like it. So he didn't say another word and instead hugged John a little tighter. Then there was nothing to do but wait for the end.

Unwatched by either of them the red numbers continued to tick down the final few seconds. Five, four, three, two, one... and then there was nothing. As in literally nothing. No fiery explosion to destroy the Houses of Parliment and no boom loud enough to shake half of London. Instead there was nothing but silence. Never-the-less it took Sherlock and John a while to realise they were still alive but even then it took them a while to actually believe it. Still it was a long while before they were prepared to let go of each other, not when they had just come so close to losing the person they loved most in the world.

It was another two and a half hours before Greg Lestrade arrived and found them there, having followed a trail of clues Sherlock left for him, still clinging on to one another. He had been worried when he hadn't heard anything from the detective for a while and the first clue had only caused his heart to sink further. From that moment he had known something was very wrong. He was just annoyed it had taken him so long to get here. Not that could have done anything even if he had. The bomb was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

When he had arrived on the scene Greg's first instinct had been to check the bomb. It had been with equal amusement and anger that he had noticed the detonator wasn't even connected to the rest of the device's intricate circuitry. After sending a silent thanks to whatever God had decided to look after John and Sherlock he turned his full attention to the people in question. There was no denying this could have been so much worse and Greg blew out a shaking breath at how close it had come. It was no wonder both of them were shaking and clearly in shock. Sherlock and John had been fully expecting to die down here in the dark.

"I'm sorry you two, I really am. You shouldn't have had to deal with this alone." Greg said, well aware there was nothing he could say to make any of this better. They deserved more than this. He sighed and a gentle smile spread across his face. Right now he knew exactly what they needed. "Come on, let's get you home. I'll give you a life in my car."

In a daze Sherlock and John stood and silently followed Greg out of the train carriage and through the tunnel, neither of them noticing the sympathetic looks they were getting. The only thing they were aware of was the fact that they were somehow, impossibly, still alive become somebody had made an incredibly simple and stupid mistake. If not for that they would not now be emerging into the bright light of late afternoon. John felt his legs give way and would have fallen if it wasn't for Sherlock's arm around his shoulder. He smiled up at him and rested his head on his shoulder with a sigh.

Later that nigh, once Greg had left for home, John and Sherlock both cried themselves to sleep. Not even the comforting presence of one another could help. Afterwards though, once the fear and shock had disipated, they fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. Neither of them would be forgetting this in a hurry but at least there was the wedding to look forward to.


End file.
